


Scales

by Aluxra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: Based on a headcanon.The first time Jesse McCree counts the scales on Hanzo's dragon tattoo when he can't sleep





	Scales

**Author's Note:**

> [Original Posted:](http://aluxra.tumblr.com/post/148555610527/scales) Aug 6th, 2016
> 
> My first McHanzo fic. It's pretty rough, I was still getting a feel for the characters.
> 
> Hope you still enjoy x

The night was quiet but not silent: the sounds of the city filtered up through the window to the small, run down hotel room where they had camped out for the night, even with one of the lumpy, beaten up mattresses pushed up against it, blocking the worst of the city’s glare in the darkness. Still, shafts of multicoloured light illuminated the room in bright neon against the grey-blue shadows hiding in the far corners. McCree watched them move across the ceiling from where he lay, stretched out on one side of the second mattress they had pulled down onto the floor between the bed frames, blocking a direct line of sight to them from the door and the window; couldn’t be too careful, when there had been reports of organised Talon activity here in Bucharest, Romania.

They had been sent in pairs to enter the city and scout Talon out, and report without interfering unless absolutely necessary; the rumours had included sightings of Widowmaker, prompting Lena to volunteer vehemently to be part of the mission. Seemed like the plucky English girl had a vendetta to settle, her cheerful demeanour shifting into a vicious determination with such intensity no one argued. McCree couldn’t exactly judge her: the reports included sightings - unconfirmed, but still highly possible - of Reaper lurking in the shadows, and McCree had found himself volunteering too, and had been paired with the newest member of Overwatch: Hanzo Shimada, former assassin, former leader of the Shimada clan and, by the way they acted around each other, former brother to Genji Shimada.

Everyone has their issues.

McCree sighed, tucking one arm under his head and letting the other drop over his stomach. He itched for a cigar to pass the time instead of waiting for the sun to come up for them to begin work again: the last twenty four hours hadn’t yielded results, and he was left restless in the middle of the night with nothing to do. He scratched his nose, looking around the minimalist room for something to hold his attention for longer than two seconds, his eyes falling on his partner, fast asleep on the other side of the bed. McCree watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, his gaze drawn down to the long, curling dragon wrapped around Hanzo’s arm from his shoulder down to his hand, it’s cold eyes staring back at McCree from Hanzo’s skin.

McCree’s eyes moved from the inked pupil to the curved scales edging it, skimming the delicate lines of identical gradient curves overlapping each other up his arm. A jagged mane trailed it’s back, reminding McCree of lightning against the dark saturated ink reminiscent of storm clouds. He followed what he could see till he reached the tail, tucked almost out of sight down Hanzo’s pectoral muscle.

He craned his neck, cocking his head to get a better look at it, his eyes drawn again to the patterned scales adorning it’s snake like body, beginning to count them, like counting sheep and he found himself relaxing as he moved over the pectoral muscle, along the clavicle to the shoulder and over the bicep, his head falling back to the pillow and his eyes getting heavier as the numbers went higher.

‘Can I help you?’

McCree jumped, halfway off the bed with his hand on his holster before he jerked it back, recognising the voice as Hanzo turned his head and stared at him, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. McCree released a shaky breath and slumped back onto the mattress, his head thumping against the pillow: he brought one hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his tired eyes.

‘Y’know, it ain’t such a good idea to startle someone like that,’ he said, meeting Hanzo’s eyes through the dim light. ‘Could’ve ended badly, and I’d have to explain it back at HQ.’

‘Nor is it a good idea to stare at someone while they sleep,’ Hanzo replied. ‘It is rather disconcerting. And, if I thought I was in any danger, you would already have an arrow in you.’

‘Right,’ McCree huffed after a pause, settling back down on the mattress and folding his arms across his chest, staring up at the ceiling resolutely despite Hanzo’s dark gaze still focused on him. He glanced out the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow. ‘What was that about watching people while they sleep?’

‘What were you doing?’ Hanzo asked, instead of replying.

McCree looked away, scratched his nose. ‘Just can’t sleep, is all.’

The look he got made him shift uncomfortably, glancing at Hanzo before looking away again.

‘That’s a pretty impressive piece of art you got on you,’ he said after a beat, scrambling to collect his thoughts. ‘Must’ve taken a lot of patience to sit through getting all that detail.’

Hanzo said nothing in reply, taken aback. He raised his arm above him, rotating it back and forth, an unreadable look on his face as he stared at the dragon decorating his skin. He let his hand drop back onto his chest, his gaze remaining on the ceiling without really seeing it.

‘I was the youngest in the history of our family to master the dragons,’ he explained. ‘I received the tattoo soon after. I can’t remember how long it took, in the end. It was… weeks, months even, I think, before it was finished. It was such a great honour to receive it; I was so happy I could barely take my eyes off it when I saw it finally completed, a reminder of what I had accomplished at an age no other Shimada had succeeded.’

He paused, his brow furrowing, as if recalling an upsetting memory, something bittersweet and poignant.

‘My brother…’ he began, before his expression closed off, becoming hard and unforgiving, and he shook his head, stopping whatever line of thought crossing his mind. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply and they lapsed into silence.

The silence stretched between them so long McCree thought he’d gone back to sleep, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off Hanzo. He stared at the snarling tattoo, struggling to imagine a younger Hanzo, much less one that showed any emotion other than displeasure or sombre contemplation.

‘Three hundred and eighty two.’

‘What?’ McCree pulled his eyes away from the dragon to Hanzo’s face, brow furrowed in confusion.

‘There are three hundred and eighty two scales on the dragon,’ Hanzo explained, meeting McCree’s gaze. McCree said nothing, raising an eyebrow.

‘Sometimes, I cannot sleep, either,’ he said, as if sharing some terrible secret. McCree nodded in understanding.

‘You live the life guys like us lead, sleep becomes a pretty absent bed partner,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t think you can do what we do and find sleep as easy as other people.’

‘I don’t think the lives we’ve lived are comparable,’ Hanzo remarked.

‘Well, I never had a brother. Peace, partner,’ he added quickly, raising his hands in truce at the glare Hanzo gave him. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. ‘Look, as far as I’m concerned, a man’s family business is his own business, but whatever you think of Genji, if he's alive or dead or still your brother or not, it seems t'me like there’s some things that you just haven’t put to rest either way.’

Hanzo’s glare softened, and he looked away, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he fell deep into thought.

‘You sound like you have your own ghosts to lay to rest,’ he said after a stretch of silence.

‘I figure you gotta face ‘em sometime,’ McCree replied, tucking one hand under his head and shrugging. ‘Might as well be late than never.’

Hanzo wrinkled his nose, mulling over McCree’s words; McCree pursed his lips, and reached over to grasp his arm. Hanzo blinked, staring down at McCree’s hand wrapped around his inked wrist, before raising his eyes to meet McCree’s in shock. McCree offered him a small, easy smile.

‘Hey, partner, I can almost hear you thinking,’ he said. ‘Like I said, whatever family business you need to settle is your own, but it ain’t gonna be settled tonight. Figured the most that can be done is hunt down some kinda sleep before we have to hunt down Talon.’

‘And what are your suggestions to accomplish that?’ Hanzo asked, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. ‘Would you like to finish counting my scales?’

‘Well, don't mind if I do: I'd hate to leave something half done,’ McCree replied, straight faced. Hanzo stared at him, before he chuckled under his breath.

‘As you wish, Cowboy,’ he said, settling down and closing his eyes, resting one arm over his chest, the other still held in McCree’s hand as he felt McCree’s gaze trail down his skin. 

When they managed to fall asleep, they couldn’t be sure, aware of the dim hotel room around them one moment and then the next in peaceful, dreamless slumber. Their arms stretched across the space between them, retaining a tentative connection, anchoring them in the darkness; McCree’s hand curled loosely around Hanzo’s wrist, his own hand turned upwards almost as if to clasp McCree’s in his sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come and chat with me on [tumblr](http://aluxra.tumblr.com)


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